cineri gloria sera est
by Isis Lied
Summary: AU It was a simple exchange: a life for a soul. When Amaimon meets Shiemi Moriyama, a frail girl with a weakening heart, he offers her a deal in the form of an unbreakable contract. She is given a second chance, at a price. And now, they must live with the consequences. Amaimon/Shiemi
1. Chapter 1

cineri gloria sera est

Summary: AU It was a simple exchange: a life for a soul. When Amaimon meets Shiemi Moriyama, a frail girl with a weakening heart, he offers her a deal in the form of an unbreakable contract. She is given a chance, at a price. And now, they must live with the consequences. Amaimon/Shiemi

A/N: I know XD I have too many Blue Exorcist plot bunnies but this one won't go away :P Hope this idea seems entertaining enough, anyway.

Genre: Romance, Horror, Tragedy

Disclaimer: I do not own Blue Exorcist

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Chapter 1- "Lorum ipsum"

_(sorrow itself)_

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She is dying.

It is in the very air around her, the stench of death that curls itself around the sleeping girl in heavy tendrils. Beneath the calming chamomile and thyme, there is the harsh scent of disinfectants, strong enough to burn his nose.

The green-haired demon slowly makes his way through the second-story window, pointed boots making soft footfalls against the white tile. He reaches out for her, long dark nails nearly at her throat (he can imagine his hands crushing her trachea), but stills.

Everything is too bright for the demon, even the dim glow of her platinum hair under the single fluorescent light of the hospital room. It burns under his eyelids, beneath the cerulean blue and slanted pupils. The light acts like a barrier against him, leaving the King of Earth to hide himself in the dark corners of the room.

He listens to the dull beeps of the monitor beside her, the green lines rising up and down despite the ever-present weakness of her heart. The lines rise up slowly, only to quickly dip down; an obvious sign of her disease.

Amaimon does not know what drew him to the sick girl who continued to fight. Perhaps it is the sorrowful burden that she carried with a smile. Sadness is not uncommon for patients of the hospital; it is a place for those without hope (without life). He had seen many curse their own existence, curse their family, their beliefs, inevitably falling prey to the terror that is Death. She hadn't.

The light wasn't just physical; he had seen her smile, bright and cheerful, to every nurse and doctor. He had heard their whispers of disbelief for the girl who hadn't seen the outside of a hospital in nearly five years. Yet, she continued to push forward, despite knowing her heart would eventually refuse to beat. To one day stop and shudder to a premature end.

Taking a hesitant step forward (the light hurts—burns his skin), he brushes his hand along the plastic guardrail of the bed. He jostles the IV drip slightly with the edge of his tattered coat, tired eyes ghosting over her sleeping form.

Pale, almost translucent skin (he is reminded of a time where he plucked off the diaphanous wings of a butterfly) peaks from under the equally pallid bed sheets, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, betraying the true nature of her heart. Turning to the monitor, he sees a spike in her heart rate, realizing that she was, in fact, awake.

Blonde eyelashes flutter open in a mix of fear and curiosity. She does not dare to move (dare to breath) as the stranger comes into focus, revealing an unnatural shade of green hair. Immediately, she can tell he is _different_. Emerald bores into cerulean until it feels as though a century has passed. Pink lips part to speak, hesitant, even cautious, given the circumstances.

"You've… visited me before, haven't you? I _know _you."

He finds no reason to lie. Nodding, he brings a clawed finger to his mouth, biting against the darkened nail. She shifts uncomfortably under his icy gaze, eyes darting to her lap. Clutching the sheets tightly, she speaks again, voice softer, warmer this time.

"I am Shiemi Moriyama. Who are you?"

The King of Earth goes to speak only to quickly dart under her bed, finding just enough space under the cot before the door opens. A friendly-looking nurse goes to check on Shiemi one final time, surprised to find the girl awake. She nods at the nurse, allowing for her to turn off the only light in the room.

A sliver of light spills in through the tiny window to her right and the bottom of the door, leaving the room nearly bathed in darkness. She can hear shuffling as the demon makes his way from under the bed, eyes shining in the dimness of the room.

"I am Amaimon." He says simply, returning to his unusually close proximity to the sick girl. He is drawn once again to her weak form, unsure of whether it is her soul or appearance that stirs… something inside of him.

Instead, he bites his nail again, eyes darting to the window. He can see the dim glow of the moon, crescent-shaped as it is obscured by a dark cloud.

"Are you a ghost, Amaimon?" She questions. It is a logical inference, given her surroundings and the pallor of his skin. It glows under the light of the moon, almost ethereal. She is convinced that her hand would run straight through his form, like water against her fingertips.

He shakes his head. "I am a demon. The King of Earth." There is no hesitance in his words, no doubt or excitement. Nothing. Just emptiness. The words ring hollow in her ears and she understands that she should be frightened (there's a demon in her hospital room—she should be crying, screaming, begging for her life), but finds a small smile tugging at her lips.

The boy (Amaimon—she corrects in her head) gives a curious stare but does not speak, head tipped towards the moon. Silence passes until he turns towards her again in a cold (dead, inhuman, _evil_, her mind supplies) gaze.

"You're dying." It is said with little inflection, although there is a spark of something (interest, curiosity, _hunger_—the last thought leaves a shiver down her spine) in his otherwise lifeless eyes.

She laughs. It is bell-like, sweet, melodious, like chimes teased in a gentle gust of wind. There is genuine mirth in her eyes at his statement, enough that it leaves the demon confused.

"S-sorry! You're just the first one to tell me that. I mean, my doctors keep talking about miracles but the word _death _never leaves their mouths." Eventually, her laughter stops, a somberness taking over her fragile form.

_Like a candle in a storm…_

"Are you afraid?" He is genuinely curious. He had seen Death, caused it on multiple occasions (bathed in rivulets of crimson), but never has he feared it. Life was a cycle; a circle of rebirth punctuated by the stealing of bodies and souls.

She shakes her head. "No. I've lived knowing I will eventually die. But…" She trailed off, fingers once again finding purchase in the heavy sheets.

Biting her lip, she continues, emerald orbs cast to her lap. "I've known it… but, even if it's only for a little while, I would like to _live_. Not attached to an IV, but to go to school and make friends and…" She can't believe she is saying this to a stranger (a demon, of all things) but his presence has never felt dangerous.

The girl had felt him in the creases of her periphery long ago, a walking shadow that observed without a word. It was a comfort, really. She had always felt like he was a good listener. And now that the embodiment of that shadow was in front of her (living, breathing, cold) there was no fear.

"Do you _really _want to live?" He questions, head cocked to the side.

Shiemi nods. For a moment she sees a flash of fangs in a crooked grin (there is a sudden chill and she shivers, despite the window being tightly shut) as the demon holds out a hand.

"I can give you a new heart… at a price." The coldness presses against her again as she reaches towards him, broken heart beating frantically.

(she _knows _it is a trap—knows what he wants, knows what will happen, but—)

"I accept." She is surprised that her voice does not waver in the slightest.

With those words a flurry of wind erupts from under his feet, room bathed in an emerald glow. She stares speechlessly, caught in a whirlwind of light and sounds.

"Repeat after me… Hodie morimur. Cras renascuntur. Terra contra regem vivere. Do tibi anima mea. Cineri gloria sera est."

The words do not feel foreign on her tongue or in her mind as she repeats. The room spins in a flash of dark green until she feels herself falling—drowning in darkness.

"The contract has been made. All I need is your blood." There is a pinprick of pain on her index finger as he holds her hand (his fingers are cold— ice). Crimson drops onto the pentagram until the star turns red, sparks erupting from the floor.

Then, there is silence.

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"Today we die. Tomorrow we are reborn. Contract with the king of Earth, to live. I give you my soul. Glory paid to ashes come too late."

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A/N: Sorry for the shortness of the prologue; I hope you liked it regardless! I apologize if the latin's off; I used google translator so I wouldn't be surprised ^^'

**Review? **

-Isis


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Cras amet qui nunquam amavit; quique amavit, cras amet  
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For a moment, she fears she has gone deaf. The silence pulls over the pair like a wool blanket, smothering the sound of the heart monitor and gentle drip of the IV until all she sees is amber and crimson, imaginary flames licking up the shadows of the room.

"The contract is done. Hold still— this may hurt." His voice breaks through the barrier, returning the room to its usual time and tempo. The crimson light slowly disappears until it is dark once again. Amaimon reaches towards her, clawed hand poised over her chest.

Shiemi squeezes her eyes shut, fingers curling into the sheets. She counts three seconds (an eternity it seems) until there is a feather-like pressure in her chest. She doesn't dare open her eyes (she imagines that his hand is dug between her ribcage and shudders).

The King of Earth whispers something in a demon tongue, hands splayed out against her hospital robe, right above her heart. His eyes narrow to slits, a cerulean light illuminating his hand.

The blonde feels a coldness seep into her heart (into her very veins), constricting around the organ. Sinews were cut and replaced, forming together to fashion a healthy heart. The once frantic beats slow to a regular rhythm, the hole which had been the bane of her illness closed up completely.

Yet... she feels something has replaced it. In the moments that it took to close the hole in her heart, something had wormed its way inside (dark, menacing— inhuman). She feared that the cold would never leave her body.

"You can open your eyes."

Obediently, she does, emerald orbs straining to see the dark figure. Amaimon had moved away until his back was pressed against the alabaster wall, breathing labored. His expression was twisted to one of restrained pain, claws curled in the lapels of his coat. She could see a drop of red escape his lips; he had probably bitten through his tongue.

"Are you alright?" There is a tinge of worry in her voice (worry for a demon who had probably already taken her soul), eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"I-I'm fine. I am just... unaccustomed to healing." It is said with effort, voice low and raspy.

He had only ever been good at breaking things (breaking was easy— smash it until the object becomes unrecognizable). Fixing, mending things, well, that required more concentration then it did to crush a skeleton underneath his foot. He had overexerted himself, unused to the power needed to mend something. Licking the blood from his lips, he found that it did not hurt to breathe anymore, the wound in his tongue already closing.

The lines under his eyes were more pronounced as he ghosted towards her, this time feeling an even stronger pull to the girl. It wasn't a moth to a flame; it was like two magnets colliding with each other; a brutal and inescapable cycle.

It had been a couple hundred years since his last soul (it had been bitter, reminding him too much of bitter coffee) and now, with the promise of a warm, bright soul in his hands, he had to force himself to not steal it. It would be difficult to keep his end of the bargain; but, older brother had instilled demon etiquette into him... and older brother was scary when he was angry.

Bringing a darkened nail to his pointed teeth, he gnawed at his thumb in an attempt to distract himself from the growing hunger.

"B-but didn't you say you were the King of Earth? Isn't that flowers and plants and life cycles?"

His eyes widened marginally. So she _was_ smarter than she looked. "It is."

She expected him to explain, but when moments passed in silence she sighed, tugging at the simple fabric of her hospital gown. There was a sudden flurry of movement as he reached for the chrysanthemum that rested against the small plastic table.

He held the ornamental vase carefully, bringing the stem of the plant to his lips. He breathed out, a few words escaping his tongue. Almost immediately the flower began to wilt, becoming a brown, weathered husk. The petals dropped to the floor (floating down like plucked butterfly wings) as he handed the vase back.

"Since death is also a part of the cycle of life, I am sometimes known as the King of Death."

The blonde looked to the plant forlornly, brushing away a fallen petal from her lap. "I see…"

The room lapsed into silence yet again until he pulled the vase away from her.

"You are upset." He spoke in his usual monotone, peering quizzically at the decrepit flower. He couldn't understand why her countenance had fallen. It was just a flower; Assiah was a wealth spring of flowers, much different than the barren landscape of Gehenna. Only his domain, or, at least what was in Amahara, was covered in foliage.

"This was a chrysanthemum from my grandmother's garden. My mother is taking care of it now… but, I always wanted to tend to the garden, someday."

"So it is something irreplaceable?"

She nodded. The demon closed his eyes as a few more words escaped his breath. In moments the petals on the floor began to float towards the forgotten stem of the flower, curling back into place. The stem returned to its vibrant viridian color while the petals turned white, an even brighter color than they were before. He returned the dark vase, claws brushing lightly against her pale skin.

Amaimon leaned against the table, breathing only slightly labored. It was much easier to return a flower to its original form than mending a broken heart. Shiemi remained silent, fingers trailing against the smooth white petals. The Earth King remained confused. Wasn't she upset that the flower had withered? So why was she emotionless now, with not even a hint of elation?

"Thank you." She said finally, emerald orbs clouded with unshed tears.

The green-haired youth recoiled, blinking widely. Tears? They were almost always a sign of human sadness. If he continued to make her upset he feared that her soul would only taste bitter.

"Why are you crying? He deadpanned, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. The springs groaned against his weight as he stared unabashed at her, icy orbs trained to the falling tears.

She furiously wiped the tears away, the barest of smiles playing on her lips. "I-I'm not sad, really. I'm happy… so happy. Sorry for worrying you. I just… you're nicer than I thought you would be, Amaimon." She finished, turning her gaze to her lap, biting her lip. _He seems so cold… yet, there's a warmness to him. Like a mixture of winter and spring. How strange…_

The demon cocked his head to the side, absorbing the blonde's words. Was it worry he was feeling when he saw her tears? It was definitely not his usual response; tears shed by humans usually happened in accordance to the amount of _fun _he had. Tipping his head back, he mumbled out, "You're different for a human."

She giggled, brushing back a lock of platinum hair. "You're weird for a demon—I think. I mean I haven't met any other demons beside you."

He didn't respond, once again biting against his nail. The woman's presence was like a burning sun; he wanted to reach up and smother the star, taint it completely until it became dark and cold like himself (to break and break until nothing but ash remained). Yet, something other than the promise of a bright soul kept his claws stilled. _How infuriating… _he thought, suddenly standing up. There was still one more matter he had to resolve.

"You want to go to school, yes?" His brother had told him much about the buildings designated for young humans to learn; perhaps she would like to study at his school.

She nodded furiously. "O-of course!"

"I'll talk to my brother. He's a principal of a school." Before Shiemi could question the demon he was gone, disappearing through the window into the heavy dark. She sighed, moving with the IV to stroll towards the still open window. Shutting it, she gazed at the crescent-shaped moon.

There were so many questions in her head. But, as she turned back towards her bed, she was _happy _(truly happy for the first time in years)_. _And even if there were a few things she didn't quite understand, she wouldn't let it get her down. Amaimon had saved her (and damned her); and that was all that mattered. Lying against the pale sheets, she drifted off to sleep, tiredness finally seeping through her veins like ice.

That night, she dreamed of a certain green-haired demon.

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_May he love tomorrow who has never loved before;_  
_And may he who has loved, love tomorrow as well_

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A/N: Well, I just wanted to prove that this wouldn't just be another oneshot I never got around to updating (I have way to many stories that have only one chapter). So, yah, I'm dedicated to this story… kind of XD at least I have a plot for once ^^' Next chap will be an exploration of True Cross Academy, of course, and all the craziness that a sort-of-kind but hopelessly confused demon and his innocent contractor could possibly get into XD

Oh, and I kind of took the whole deadly breath thing from the demon Amaymon (which I guess is who Kazue Kato based Amaimon after), who was said to have a poisonous breath. And maybe from when Amaimon kidnapped Shiemi and it totally looked like he was going to bite her face off, not kiss her XD And I promise that the chapters will get longer once I find more free time to write!

**Review?**

-Isis


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